


Tilling the Desert Sands

by monsterkiss



Category: Rune Factory (Video Games), Rune Factory 3: A Fantasy Harvest Moon
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fanart, M/M, Marriage, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26075857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterkiss/pseuds/monsterkiss
Summary: A peaceful and united Sharance is celebrating a momentous occasion, but amidst the excitement Micah struggles to reach his wife as she begins to retreat into herself. As he tries to draw the secrets from Kuruna’s chest, he is forced to consider just how stable this young truce will prove, and what it would mean for it to all fall apart.With cover art byjackiekawaii.
Relationships: Carlos/Ondorus (Rune Factory), Kuruna/Micah (Rune Factory), Pia/Sakuya (Rune Factory)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	Tilling the Desert Sands

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Rune Factory Big Bang event, something which I have never done before! It was a lot of fun to write and to see how other people create things, and I hope you enjoy reading it and the other works in the event.
> 
> The gorgeous art was done by the incredibly talented [jackiekawaii.](https://jackie-kawaii.tumblr.com/)

  
  


By the time Wells managed to get a messenger out to him through the crowds it was already well into the afternoon, and though this would usually have been the perfect time to bother him, with the morning’s work and a sedate lunch all done, this was far from a usual day. As such he arrived at the mayor’s house in a state of some disarray. He smiled at the tourists crowding the store as confidently as he could, knowing full-well the state of his hastily-changed attire, and when he could only find an overworked Shara behind the counter, called out into the racks of rapidly dwindling flowers.

“Hello? It’s Micah! What is it, Wells- sir?” he corrected, spying the two individuals whose animated conversation with the man he had apparently just interrupted.

“Ah, Micah… Is that you, Micah?” The Mayor turned to him, all the sweet doddering old gentleman, which was never a good sign. “These old eyes aren’t what they once were, you know…”

“He said that his name is Micah, I believe,” the young woman said with a helpful smile. Yue, he realised with a jolt, though dressed in far more extravagant garb than the simple, practical robes she usually favoured.

“Did he, now? These old ears aren’t what they once were either, you know.”

Wells gave another saccharine grin, reaching to pat her hand but, thankfully, seeming to think better of it.

“Are you here for the wedding, Yue? You’re certainly dressed…” he trailed off, uncertain how to sum up the beautiful flowing sleeves or the intricate pattern of seasonal blooms that looked to have been painted with dye, rather than sewed on. “Nice? I mean, it’s amazing.”

She laughed, a delicate but not haughty sound. “I thought Shino might appreciate a taste of home. You should see what Mei is wearing; it’s like something out of the fairytales from my childhood! But, no, the wedding is just a happy coincidence. We were planning to come today regardless.” She daintily waved a hand to the man beside her, who had been leaning awkwardly on a display of charm blues. “Micah, this is Barett.”

“Hello.”

Micah smiled and held out a hand, which remained in place for just a second too long before being grasped. The man was taller than him, with shaggy hair and dressed in plain, practical travel wear which on any other day would have been acceptable, but today made him stand out almost as much as Yue. His gaze was a little aloof and he only gave Micah the briefest of once-overs before looking away, as though a sale on greenifier was the most interesting thing in the world. Despite his rather rugged looks, he noted that his hands were soft, not calloused by hard manual work nor the strain of battle.

Yue’s smile was a little indulgent as she watched the dour exchange unfold. “Barett is an old friend and occasional customer; he teaches at a school in Alvarna.”

He brightened up. “Down by the coast? That place is getting really popular, isn’t it? A lot of travellers seem to be hoping to send their children there. It really put your town on the map. You must be very proud of it.”

“And such a new school, at that.” Wells piped up from his elbow. “Why, when I last visited, that place was barely a dock and a few fields!”

“That must have been… quite a while ago,” Barett mumbled, eyes widening a little out of their heavy-lidded apathy.

“The young people can’t be slowed down, these days. Change, change, change, that’s all there is, you wake up some mornings and you barely know the world from yesterday!” He caught himself, giving Micah a little smile. “Not that it’s all bad, mind you.”

“Indeed,” Yue said. “You could say this is why we are here. Barett is interested in taking up the work of the travelling merchant, and I have been acting as a sort of mentor.” She gave a humble little smile.

Barett shuffled a little as they all turned to him, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Micah wondered if having the attention of a group of adults rather than children was throwing him off a little.

“I just thought… it would be good to see the world. I’m supposed to teach these kids about it, so I might as well know what I’m talking about. And since things settled down they’ve been doing well enough to be alright without me… hopefully…” His voice faded away and he again turned his eyes towards a few loose seeds that had fallen under one of the counters.

“So here we are,” Yue finished, when it became clear that no one else would.

“Here they are.” Wells nodded.

“Um, yes,” Micah said. “That’s great! I’m sure you’ll do really well; Yue is an excellent merchant! But, uh, why am _I_ here, exactly?”

“Hmm? Well, that’s obvious,” Wells huffed, “You’re going to show them around, help this lad get his bearings, find a feel for the place, since he might soon be visiting regularly. I can hardly do it myself, not with my poor old knees… my back, my old, old eyes…”

“And your old ears, of course.” Micah sighed. “There’s still a little time, I guess, but it might have to be the short version of the tour. I still need to get a few things sorted before the ceremony begins.”

“Yes, yes, yes, so, just follow the lad, and he’ll show you around. In a way, _he_ is one of our greatest sights.” He winked with no subtlety as he hurried them towards the doors with a very sudden turn of speed for a decrepit and helpless old man. “Shara, the Sharance-flower bouquets are almost out again! _Where_ is your sister?”

Micah gave his two charges an apologetic smile. “He’s uh, a very busy man.”

“Naturally. But it is always prudent to visit the Mayor first, when beginning business affairs in a new place,” Yue intoned, turning to her protege, “or clan leader, regent or royalty, barbarian chief, and so on. It pays to have friends in high places, and courtesy is often the first step on the way to currency.”

Barett nodded, shuffling aside to allow more babbling tourists into the shop. Micah waved them to follow him as he headed for the door.

“It must be kinda weird to be the student for once,” he said, offering Barett what he hoped was a welcoming smile.

The man gave him another blink-and-you’d-miss-it glance, muttering something.

“Uh, sorry, what was that?”

Barett looked at him again, then Yue, whose face was carefully blank, then back to the floor.

“Is it… is it true? That you’re a…”

Micah blinked, then smiled again, this time without having to try. “Ah, people ask that a lot, nowadays. Here, watch.”

He led them away from the entrance a little way, where the crowds were less packed. He stepped smartly back, and with a flourish, transformed.

Barett gasped, as did several of the tourists around them. Micah twirled around, showing off his fully-woolly form, grinning at the crowd, before changing back to a round of applause. He gave a little bow, cheeks flushing slightly. A few children had hidden behind their parent’s legs. He had the urge to go over and reassure them of his benign nature, but he reminded himself that he had work to do. He turned back to his two charges.

“Amazing,” the man said, eyes wide, “I’ve never seen anything like it. And they say that there are more like you here?”

“This town has far more variety than you find elsewhere. In the last few years especially, I have seen many different people welcomed.” Yue smiled, watching the dispersing crowd. “It’s a place of great diversity of people.”

“And we’re proud of it.”

Micah led the pair around the small square, trying to point out the more pleasing aspects over the buzz of the crowd. The grocery store was almost as packed as Well’s shop had been, with Karina looking more awake than he’d ever seen her, and not a little bit happy about it.

She perked up when she saw him, her bright smile alight with desperation. “Micah… Do you have any work… for me?”

“Absolutely not!” He could not see Hazel on the other side of the store, but her voice cut through the hubbub sharp enough. Karina winced, then sighed, shaking her head as she accepted a handful of coins from a customer, barely checking them.

“That bad, huh?” He grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that eager to go off into the wilderness with me. Or anywhere with anyone, for that matter.”

She sighed. “I’m going to die here.”

“Always keep on good terms with the local shopkeepers,” Yue said, “particularly in times of… stress.” She inspected a little figurine of a Buffamoo on the shelves, which was swiftly snatched away by a tourist. “And these times certainly seem stressful.”

“It’s not always like this. Today is just kind of a big day for us. Think of it as a trial by fire!” Micah grinned at Barett as, with some effort, they managed to push their way out of the shop. He could hear Karina’s plaintive voice yawning after them.

“Festivals and events can be very good for business, as you can see, but they can also be overwhelming. Always try to remain professional, but don’t be afraid to take breaks. Remember that we work alone, and answer only to ourselves.”

“Hm.” Barett nodded. “It’s a bit like managing a classroom, but the children are customers.”

“And it’s not really advisable to shout them into quiet obedience, unfortunately.”

“Normally we’d go to the blacksmith next, but he closed up early for the party.” Which was probably for the best, he thought. If Karina was in trouble, he couldn’t imagine how Gaius and Raven would handle crowds this ravenous.

They managed to batter-ram their way to Carlos’ Resort, minus Carlos but with a very energetic Carmen, undamped by the deluge of people, rushing about despite the resort being limited to a few souvenirs and some fishing gear for sale, dressed in a peculiar assortment of mismatched clothes. Marian was similarly undeterred by the sudden influx of test subjects, and Evelyn was selling sewed golden woolies constructed of various dubious materials out of the de Sainte-Coquille mansion.

Apparently Barett was on good terms with another branch of the family tree, and he and Sofia were having an animated, if somewhat confused conversation about it, when a familiar voice interrupted Micah’s translating.

“Micah?”

With a wide smile he turned to see Kuruna, shuffling awkwardly through the crowds towards him.

“Kuruna, you’re here! Barett? This is my wife.” He took her hand as she came to his side, squeezing gently. “This man is a teacher from another town, but Yue’s training him to be a merchant. He’s here to learn about us, and the town.”

“I see.” She affixed the man with an appraising gaze. After a few seconds she flinched. “Ah, yes. Hello, I am Kuruna. I… am pleased to meet you.” She gave Micah a sidelong glance from behind her glasses, and he winked back, squeezing her fingers.

The man nodded. “Good to meet you, too. I… hope we can do business sometime.” Micah had to suppress a small chuckle when he saw a similar exchange of glances between the student and the teacher.

When the two showed no sign of sparking up a lively chat, Yue stepped in to rescue her pupil. “Kuruna is the elder of the Univir settlement outside town. We may be some of the first humans to ever do business with her people.”

“Yeah! That’d be amazing,” Micah said, “it would bring the communities even closer.”

“Mmm.” Kuruna nodded, though seemingly to herself, when the others looked to her for a further response she jumped slightly. “Ah, yes, I suppose we could trade food and books for materials and other produce of the desert.”

“Your people live in the desert? You must be hardy people. I’ve never seen an… Univir, before.”

“They are unique to this area,” Yue supplied, “I’ve never seen another group in all my-”

“We are not seen, because we choose not to be,” Kuruna’s voice was bristly, firm, a tone Micah had not heard for a long while, and he turned to look at her with concern as she continued, “We are a nomadic people, we are scattered to the winds, in the Norad Kingdom and beyond. We simply value our… privacy.” Her voice trailed off and she looked away, contrite, her hand growing limp in his own.

They stood there in silence for several seconds, Micah dumbstruck, the two merchants seemingly waiting for him to take the lead, as if he were any better equipped than they.

“Oh! Please, _ignore me!_ I remembered that I have _nothing interesting_ to show you over here!”

Sofia almost sprinted into the painfully hushed group, practically impaling Barett on the point of her parasol. “And I absolutely must find something _dreadful_ for you to take back as a gift! _Don’t follow me,_ please!”

Micah had the presence of mind to mouth a quick, “Thank you!” to Sofia as she dragged her confused involuntary guests deeper into the house. She gave him a thumbs down, before dashing ahead to point out a particularly _hideous_ portrait hanging on the wall, leaving Micah alone with his wife and dozens of anonymous tourists.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice soft as he tried to meet Kuruna’s downcast gaze.

“I’m sorry. I… no, not here,” she murmured.

He watched her a little longer, her eyes still refusing to meet his, then nodded, and led her back through the town, to the Sharance Tree, home. She was quiet the whole time, and she pressed against him when they passed particularly thick crowds.

As soon as the door closed she seemed to shrug off an enormous weight, sitting down on one of the dining chairs with a sigh. Will crawled out from under the oven and flickered to her side.

“Poor little guy,” Micah said with an indulgent smile, “he must have been lonely.”

“He doesn’t like crowds.” Kuruna’s voice was soft with weariness.

Micah came to sit beside her. “He’s not the only one, huh?”

She sighed again, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Crowds of humans, perhaps. They make me nervous.”

He stroked her hair. “You’re safe here. We all are.”

“You think so?” The sentence was only barely a question. Her delicate fingers brushed the varnished wood grain.

“Of course.” He nuzzled closer. “Do you think I would live here if it was dangerous? Do you think I would have brought _you_ here?”

She leaned into him a little more. “You do many dangerous things. Worryingly often, in fact.”

“You know what I mean.” She was smiling a little though, now. He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear it in her voice. “Has something happened?” he asked, gently.

“No.”

He thought back to his transformation outside the flower shop. “Have the tourists been… rude?”

She chuckled, and it was a bitter sound. “No, no, the tourists _love_ us.”

“Then what is bothering you?”

Will purred under her hand. “It is… difficult to talk about.”

He curled his arm around her, leaning a little precariously across on his dining chair. The kitchen still smelled faintly of last night’s curry, the light outside beginning to seep through the windows in soft gold.

“It’s difficult to talk to _you_ about it,” she eventually murmured.

He blinked and froze for an instant, and he shook it off just as quickly, but she had felt it, of course. She moved away from him, sitting up to turn and look into his face, touching his cheek with her fingers, delicate but calloused with years of work surviving in the wilderness.

“Because you are a kind person. Because you love this place, you love these people.”

He took her hand, squeezing her fingers. “I love _you_. Nothing you could say to me would change that.”

Her large, clear eyes gazed at him, the colour of the town lake he’d fished in so often. He smiled, trying to convey the feelings he knew he sometimes stumbled around. The words always felt brittle and unwieldy for the way that just seeing her face made the world seem so much wider and wilder and full of possibility.

She smiled with an indulgent sigh. “Foolish. What if I told you I wished to fight you to the death, roast your body and feed you to the Elder Dragons?”

He frowned and tilted his head in mock-concern. “Well, I may have to reconsider being around you in the kitchen, but I would still love you.”

She gave a little laugh, a tiny ephemeral thing, but one he knew was among the highest forms of enjoyment she could express. She stood up from the table, still holding his hand. “Come. You have places to be.”

She took the exit down to the fields, her preference whenever she left the house. The portal at the exit glowed faintly and the smell of thriving greenery pervaded the air as they both stood, looking out on all that they’d grown together. A few monsters were still wandering about, napping on the soft earth or playing in the shade. He waved to a wooly that was checking a few cabbages with its slightly vacant expression.

Kuruna shook her head as she greeted the monsters. “Such a human trait, to grow things in such… orderly rows.” She pet the head of a dark fairy that appeared to be in an animated conversation with Will.

He glanced up from a cabbage that the wooly was trying to show him. “It’s a lot more convenient, though. But... maybe next season we could change it up? Just put all the seeds in a bag and sow them all around.” He tried to imagine it, the fields a sea of colour, flowers and vegetables arraying all about, like a patchwork quilt sown in the dark, and the monsters all gambolling around in the ocean of hues and shapes…

“It might look a little chaotic,” he said.

He looked over at her, now cupping a blossom with an infinitely delicate touch. “A little chaos can be nice.”

“I think you might be the last person I’d have imagined saying something like that.”

Her eyes stayed on the flower as her fingers rifled through the petals like a soft breeze. “Nature is chaotic by… nature. The wind catches the seeds and neither knows where they will go. No season is the same as the previous year, no monster shares the same thoughts as another, no stone is wrought with a destiny in mind. We are all a part of that chaos, comrade. It is not an enemy to be overcome.”

The wooly was still tugging his sleeve as he watched her go from flower to flower, the expression on her delicate features inscrutable even to him. It had been a while, he realised, since she had called him comrade. He found that he had missed it.

“Go, they will be waiting for you.”

“Wait, you’re not coming?” He frowned as he raised himself from the sea of orderly green.

“I will… make my own way. I still need to prepare.” She met his gaze to reassure him, but he had known her long enough to know she would keep her word.

He wished he could read her better. Shouldn’t she be able to rely on him for that, of all people? “Alright.” He nodded. “I’ll see you there.”

He strode towards the entrance, a little sprout of worry still growing in the pit of his stomach. Words really were far too clunky and ill-suited for him to needle anything out of her before she was good and ready, he knew that. He just hated the idea of her struggling alone.

“Micah?”

He turned slightly as her call interrupted his brooding.

“Do you know why it is that Daria’s house stands just outside of the town’s borders?”

His brow creased at the sudden non-sequitur. “No, I don’t suppose I’d ever really thought about it.”

She nodded, still looking down at the plants.

“I will see you later, at the inn.”

He watched her a few seconds longer, to see if her face would give him some little clue as to her abrupt change in conversation topic. When, of course, it did not, he left, the monsters bleating and chittering farewells. He kept glancing back until the entrance was out of sight, not so much expecting to see her as to confirm her absence.

She was not in the habit of saying things she didn’t mean. If she was evasive, it was because there was no way to gently tap the things dammed up behind her eyes; it would be a flood, a deluge that would drown the whole valley, or nothing. And for now, she had chosen nothing.

He trusted her; it was something they had earned from each other, built together. But he could not help but worry about her, want to reach out and share whatever was burdening her. They had built that together, too.

He cradled that little sprout of worry in the warm earth of his chest. Growing things, even the weeds, was a habit. He was a natural, after all.

Winding his way towards the inn, he noted that the tourists seemed to have thinned out. They would all be converging on that same spot, now, those who wanted to see the show, and those who simply wished to return to their rooms for the end of the day and retire. He suspected the latter group would wind up disappointed; the noise was migrating with the crowds.

“Hey, Micah.”

Bedecked in a gleaming if mismatched suit of armour, Gaius gave him a wave from the door of his shop, evidently pausing in mid-lockup. Raven, standing at his side, sighed and took the keys from his hand, finishing the job herself.

Gaius’s lazy smile was infectious, despite himself. “Hi! You two are heading off as well?”

“Yeah.” Gaius broke into a slothful saunter that Micah had to struggle to match. Raven fell into it with a practised ease, her arms loosely folded.

“You, uh, expecting trouble?” He indicated the clanking steel plates.

Gaius blinked at him, then glanced down at his outfit as if he had just realised he was wearing it. “Oh, this? Nah… it’s just the closest thing to formal wear I own. I did ask Evelyn if she could make something up, but… I’m not sure what she made was appropriate… or if it was even clothing.”

“The forge still smells like oranges,” Raven muttered. Her own outfit was not nearly as extravagant, in fact it could have been her everyday wear if not for a pair of beautiful red feathers in her hair.

“It does have a kind of… style. Not for this thing, but there’s gotta be some kind of event for it. Maybe at one of the festivals…”

“So, Kuruna is not coming?”

Micah had been chuckling softly, but Raven’s question was like a bottle of formula on the worry growing in him. The laugh caught in his throat, and he looked into her eyes, so cool and controlled, but with no trace of malice.

“She’s… coming later. She had a few things left to take care of.”

“But she _will_ come?”

“Yeah,” he said, with a certainty rooted far deeper than any seedling of anxiety, “she’ll be there.”

A spark of warmth appeared in that gaze, so faint and quick he wasn’t sure anyone else would have caught it. He wondered if she had been nursing her own worry. Her arms fell to her sides, hands slipping into her pockets.

“Well of course she’s coming. Why wouldn’t she?” Gaius gave his partner a concerned look, and Micah wondered if he really had been the only one to notice that change. “Did she… say something to you about it?”

“No… No, not exactly.”

Micah suppressed the urge to grill her further. This was neither the time nor place and, more to the point, Raven rarely gave any more than she was fully prepared to give. She’d kept her own secret far longer and more successfully than he had, after all.

Gaius continued to frown at her, an expression he wore even more awkwardly than the armour. Then, as they passed under the boughs of one of the lesser trees of Sharance, we gave a little shrug, the comfortable smile slipping back onto his features. “Well I’m glad. I would have missed her. Her jokes always crack me up.”

Micah was still digesting that comment as they turned the corner and the great tiled roof of the Miyako Inn came into view, almost buried under a technicolour sea of garlands and lanterns. Ribbons and paper fluttered in the breeze like feathers, pinned to every surface that would have them and entwined in the branches of the overhanging trees. Beneath them glittering and gleaming decorations in monster scales and less exotic materials hung, like the skin of a great iridescent lizard, and the number of candles and lanterns was surely a fire hazard. In spite of it all, there was nothing tacky or unsightly about the display. It was all far too earnest, too relentlessly joyful, the revellers blending into the colourful scenery.

“And I think,” Gaius continued as they all paused to stare up at the display, “this is the kind of thing that everyone should see, you know?”

Micah mumbled an agreement, still gazing up at the inn. He hadn’t really accepted that it was real, he realised, not until this exact moment. He felt a surge of a strange anxious energy, excitement bubbling up in him. His lingering disquiet couldn’t withstand the infectious warmth of it.

The staff of the diner had laid out an open-air buffet, which had drawn some of the crowd away from the crush at the inn’s entrance. The food looked to all be to the usual excellent standard, and there did not seem to be any end to it. He’d thought that he’d built up quite a stamina for preparing meals since he’d first arrived in town, but clearly he still had a lot to learn if he was ever to match this punishing pace. Gaius immediately began to gravitate towards it, Raven dragged along in his wake and looking only a little perturbed to be so.

He joined them, picking up a steamed bun and chatting with everyone who waved him over. The food was exactly as perfect as he had known it would be, and the conversation was lively and energetic in spite of the lengthening evening. He took his time sampling as much as he could, catching up with friends and introducing himself to a few new ones. He was stalling, he knew it. His eyes kept wandering, searching for a horn or a long, white robe. He knew it was only making him more and more anxious, feeding that concern that the festivities were threatening to finally dampen, but knowing that did not make it any easier to stop. He had always felt most at ease when he was at her side, when he could see her and hear her speak and smell the desert herbs she washed her hair with. He was never happier than when he watched her talking about something that truly mattered to her, full of the fire of her convictions, features sharp and words clear and direct. She had a way of making the world seem like a place that may not be just and safe, but _could_ be, if one were willing to work toward it.

He did not need to be near her every second of their lives. They were both busy people and comfortable in their individual wholeness. They did not complete each other, they complimented each other as two complete people in their own rights. But now, being separate because there was something she did not feel she could discuss with him, something he could not intuit even knowing her so well, that… It was as if the world had shifted, he could not trust the ground to hold him and he could not trust himself. He could not shake the concern that he had done something wrong, but she had certainly never been shy about telling him when they disagreed or differed in some area. They had always talked things out.

She would come, he knew. She did not break her word on a whim. He had every faith in her, he just wished she could prove him right a little sooner.

He needed time, anyway. He had to think about what he would say. There had to be the right combination of words that would let her know she could speak to him, some way of expressing himself with the same efficient grace that she had.

The entrance to the inn was still abuzz with people, so he made his way over to the water that surrounded it like a moat. A few people were throwing crumbs for the fish, who in turn mirrored those above by surging and mobbing around the inn.

“I’m tellin’ you, this is gonna spoil ‘em. How are we ever gonna be able to tempt them onto the line with regular bait now, after they’ve had all this?”

“Hmm, perhaps you could upgrade to some kind of luxury bait? You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, after all.”

“So… fly fishing? Huh, you could be onto something, there.”

“Hey, Carlos.” Micah smiled up at the larger man, his broad body contained in a sharp suit for the moment, but evidently it was endeavoring to break out at the first opportunity.

“Micah! Good to see you, man. Was worried you’d get buried in all this and I’d miss you.” He indicated the crush of people with a grin. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, and that _did_ suit him.

“It was kind of a close thing a few times. Ondorus, hello.”

“Micah.” The man smiled, his eyes warm. He had always been an attractive man, with his delicate features and thoughtful gaze, but today he was extravagant. His robes were a blue almost as dark as black, studded with constellations of glittering gemstones. A silver chain was wrapped around his horn, loops dangling and shimmering in the light. “Where is Kuruna? I wanted to speak with her about some new monsters that have appeared near the encampment.”

A shame; Micah had been hoping he would know something. “She’s got a few things still to do. She said she’d catch us up, so she’ll probably be here any minute.”

“I see.” Something faltered in the Univir’s kind expression, and Micah was reminded just how good he was at reading people. “Well, everyone is very busy today.”

“Tell me about it. Almost makes me wish I’d kept the whole resort open. Can you imagine how much money all these people have brought in?” Carlos swept an arm towards the crowds, narrowly missing Micah’s head.

“They would have fished your lake completely dry; you’d end up spending all that gold just to restock.”

“I guess,” Carlos muttered, eyes still fixed on an alternate world of could-have-been.

Micah chuckled. “How’s Carmen? She seemed a little rushed herself, when I saw her.”

“Ugh, don’t even start, man. She spent all night trying to pick out a suit and she was still going this morning. I told her she might as well just wear all of them at once, if it was such a big deal.”

“Perhaps there’s someone she’s hoping to impress,” Ondorus offered.

Carlos scoffed. “Well, that’s a lost cause. Who's gonna be impressed with a girl who can’t even pick out a suit. _I_ just went with the first one I found, and that turned out just fine.”

Micah watched the way the fabric strained against his biceps as he spoke, and met Ondorus’s gaze.

“It looks great!”

“An efficient choice.”

The three shared a smile, standing companionably at the waterside as some innovative tourists attempted to teach the fish to jump for their food. That, Carlos conceded, could have some fishing application, even if it would feel a little mean.

“It has to be a contest of wills, right? As soon as you pull on the line, the fish knows it has to get away, and you know you gotta get the fish. You’re equals, no matter what happens. _That’s_ what fishing should be about.”

“Hm,” Ondorus pondered. “Sometimes, Carlos, you can really be quite profound.”

The fisherman grinned. “Really? Thanks, man. You’re pretty sharp yourself.”

“The crowd’s thinning a bit; they must be starting soon.” Micah turned to his friends. “I think I’m gonna head in. You guys coming too?”

Carlos shook his head. “Nah, gotta wait for Carmen. I’m in half a mind to go and drag her out in whatever she’s wearing and call it done if she doesn’t show soon.”

He nodded. “Ondorus?”

“I… find these enclosed houses claustrophobic at the best of times. All these people…”

“Ah, yeah, it could be pretty intense.” The sound from within was a roar of conversation and music, he could imagine that for someone who grew up in nomadic camps it was barely comprehensible.

“But I will do my best to catch the event itself. Like your joining with Kuruna, it feels like a moment of great importance. If I see her, I will let her know you have gone in. Until then, I have plenty of company out here.” He indicated Carlos.

“Hey man, I’m just waiting for my sister, that’s all.” Micah realised he had never quite noticed what a poor liar the man was. His blushing face revealed even more than his outfit.

“Thank you. I’ll see you both later, then.” Micah waved a goodbye, then made his way to the bridge, pushing through the throng towards the interior of the inn.

The doorway was packed almost to the point of being a human wall, and he had to gently push, squeeze and plead his way in. Once he _was_ inside, a little more ruffled than he had hoped, he was struck, almost frozen as he looked about the inn.

The first thing he noticed was the scent infusing the air. There must have been something in the bath water, because in the warmth of the air was suspended a scent of delicate flowers undercut with rich fruit. Every breath felt like eating a dessert.

Once he had adjusted to that, he was looking into a crowded room so thickly adorned with paper and ribbons and enormous flower arrangements that it was like stepping into a new world, and not the inn he had visited so often since he first moved here. There was a definite style to it that reminded him of Shino and the keepsakes she kept of her homeland. The whole colourful effect reminded him of Daria’s work, and he made a note to ask her if she had helped. It was almost overwhelming; the smile on his face was an unconscious gesture that he barely realised he was making. Every splash of colour and light seemed perfectly engineered to invoke happiness. Someone was playing something like a harp, the soft notes clear even in the hubbub of chatter and laughter.

He was accosted by Herman as he stood staring at the display, and after they had exchanged the perfunctory statements about how lovely it all was and how everyone was enjoying it, they settled into a chat about the effects of the weather on his crops, and whether he would be able to provide a good yield. Or at least, he was fairly sure that’s what the conversation was about. It was still a little difficult to be completely sure.

Zaid interrupted in the middle of Sherman’s compliment (or possibly insult) about the quality of the last season's vegetables. After a terse greeting and a stiff bow he launched into his own request. Apparently there was a large and rambunctious monster skulking closer and closer to the town, and the dwarf wanted him to come along on the hunt, either to hopefully convince the creature to calm down, or, if it came to it, to aid in banishing it back to the Forest of Beginnings.

He was nodding in agreement when Rusk squeezed his way towards him, asking about restocking the restaurant after this was all over. He nodded along, reassuring the man, who looked to have been cooking past any level of normal endurance. There was a smudge of flour across his cheek, which Micah did not have the heart to inform him of.

He was used to this. The attention, people asking for his advice or his assistance with all manner of things. It didn’t really bother him; he liked to help people, but it could get a bit much. Some weeks he was running around on errands more often than he was farming, and Kuruna would sigh and put her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling the back of his neck as she gently berated him, reminding him that it was alright to say “No” from time to time. He wondered if this was what it was like for Wells as mayor, and suddenly felt a lot more sympathetic to his ploy to push a job onto him. He spotted Yue and Barrett across the room and gave them a wave. Yue was still in her perfect poise, all professional, but Barett was starting to look like a child himself, staring around himself with wide eyes.

Then, finally, he spotted them. He brightened up and strode towards the rear of the inn, excusing himself to the people brushed aside. He could afford to be a little firm here.

Sakuya was bedecked in white, the traditional dress flowing around her, the trails of red framing her face, everything perfectly arranged. Her cheeks almost matched the colour of the adornments, and when he shook her hand he could feel that it was shaking.

“Congratulations. I’m so happy for you,” he said, squeezing her hand in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “You look absolutely beautiful, Sakuya.”

“She does! I’ve been telling her all day!” Pia was dressed in the same attire, naturally, but hers had been altered with a long sash in the flowing, shimmering colours of the ocean, haphazardly wrapped around her in a manner that was distinctly Pia.

“You look pretty good yourself.” He accepted her warm embrace. “Really, you both look wonderful. I’m… I’m so happy to see you.” He smiled wider, his heart thrumming a little in his chest. “Really, all of this… it’s so lovely, and you both deserve it.”

Pia laughed, throwing her arms around Sakuya, who responded with a peeping sound and her blush reddening a few more shades. “It’s so much fun! Everyone keeps coming up and saying lovely things. And presents! So many presents! We should have got married ages ago!” Her eyes widened. “Wait, can we get married again, after this?”

“Usually, it’s only once,” Sakuya stroked her partner’s hair tentatively.

“Aw, but I wanna marry you again and again! All the food and the partying, everyone saying how cute you are, it’s great!”

She chuckled a little. “Well, it would certainly be good for business. When I think of all the money people have been spending today…” Her eyes flashed with ambition. “Maybe we could do something on our anniversary?” She blinked, gasping. “Oh gosh, anniversary… Oh it’s really happening… Micah, it’s really happening, isn’t it?”

He smiled, patting her shoulder. “Yep, it’s real. Don’t worry, I was exactly the same on my wedding day. It feels like walking through a kind of fog, right?”

She nodded. “I just… It feels like it’s all happening at once, but everything is taking so long, at the same time? All of this, and everyone trying to talk to me, but I can’t think of what to say. But…” She turned to Pia, and in her face was something Micah knew very well, something that stirred his chest and softened the edges of the world. “But I’m so, so happy. Pia, I’m so happy…”

“I’m happy too!” Pia took Sakuya’s hands, almost bouncing up and down in her excitement. “Getting married is so wonderful! Everyone is smiling for us, and everything is so pretty, and they’re all gonna get to see how much I like you!” She flashed a wide grin to Micah. “You should have told us how much fun being married is, I would have done it straight away!”

He laughed. “Well, I suppose it happens when it happens. But it really suits you both. I know you’re going to be very happy together.”

“We’re always together, so we have lots of practice.”

“Yes, I wonder…” Sakuya turned to him, still holding Pia’s hands. Her expression turned thoughtful, her brow creasing slightly. “I don’t know if this is a silly question, but Micah, when you and Kuruna married, was it… different, afterwards? Will it… change things?”

He smiled, a little flicker of worry brushing his chest at the thought of Kuruna. “Well, we were already in love, and it didn’t make us… love each other more, or anything like that. It wasn’t like we suddenly had a new dynamic, because we were already in sync, you know? And we still are. Sometimes I wonder if it’s more about them,” he waved to the room of babbling people, “like putting a big stamp on the town, you know? ‘Here we are, together, no matter what.’”

Sakuya sighed in relief and nodded slowly, her eyes thoughtful. “Yes, we will be the same.” She turned and smiled at Pia, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. “But everyone will know… We will be partners, wives…”

“Wives! Everyone will see us and say, ‘Look at them, they have done human marriage together!’”

“You’ll be a unit. And I think you’ll be pretty unstoppable, together.”

“Yes,” Sakuya smiled, a hint of that glint in her eyes again, “We’ll have to try some new baths to celebrate, perhaps we could sell some of the decorations as souvenirs? Hmm…”

Pia giggled. “You’re so clever, Sakuya, even if it’s a little scary sometimes. We’re gonna be the best wives!”

“I know you will.” He watched them, the way they were looking at each other. Sakuya’s smile was tentative, almost nervous, but underneath it was deep sincerity. Pia was openly warm and delighted, practically glowing. But between the two, the differences merged and blended into something whole and wonderful.

Pia nuzzled Sakuya’s face, then abruptly stopped and spun around, almost knocking over several vases that Sakuya had to dash to steady.

“Speech! I’m gonna do my speech!”

“Um, it’s not really the time for that, that’s for later,” Sakuya mumbled, but Pia was already clambering onto a table, waving her arms and shushing loudly. Sakuya’s face was a ripe tomato, and she shrank into her veil as people dutifully turned to watch the bride, the hubbub dying down.

“Okay!” Pia grinned, only the slightest flicker betraying any nervousness before the audience. Micah gave her a thumbs up. “So! Thank you, everyone, for coming to our marriage. I like Sakuya a whole lot. When I lived in the water, everyone walking around above were just blurry shadows. I didn’t really know they were people, or that you could talk to them. I was happy, but I think, now, I was only living in half the world?” She gave a little shrug. “But now I’m up here, and it’s kinda hard sometimes, and I don’t always understand you all, but I’m super glad I came here! I’m glad I got to meet you all, and Sakuya…” She turned to look down at her, the bride looking up to meet her gaze, embarrassment forgotten. “If I hadn’t come up here, I’d never have met you. And my life would be… really boring. I wouldn’t even be the same Pia! So I’m so happy I came here, and that you like me, and wanna stay with me… ‘cause I wanna stay with you. I love you a lot, even more than the water, and all the fish in it. So thank you... for liking me back.”

Sakuya swallowed, and as people applauded Micah would see her eyes were shining a little. She wiped them as she accepted Pia’s hand, letting herself be led up onto the table. Clasping Pia’s arm, she took a deep breath.

“I’d like to say-”

“Oh, wait, please!”

There was a bubbling of murmurs as Sakuya jumped, wobbling a little on her stage, and stared down at the crowd, slowly parting to allow Shino to walk through. She climbed up with them, which was a little awkward; the table had clearly not been designed for three adults to stand on it.

“Um, mother-”

“Before you start, I wanted to save this for the reception, but I just can’t wait that long.” She took a deep breath. “I am so proud of you, my beautiful daughter, and Pia,” she smiled at her, “I have thought of you as my other daughter for so long, you always will be, and it has been so wonderful to have you in the family. I have seen you both grow so much together. You are both so clever, and so dedicated, and I know you will make wonderful things together. So,” she took another deep breath, and laid her hands on Sakuya’s shoulders, smiling beatifically, “I want you to start right here. Sakuya, Pia, my wedding present to you is this inn.”

Sakuya gasped, her eyes wide. “Th- the inn? Us? I’m, I’m not ready-”

Shino smiled wider, cupped her daughter’s face and kissed her forehead. “You are ready. The two of you are ready. Together you will do something amazing here, and I can’t wait to see it.”

Sakuya stared at her, her mouth moving silently, but Pia had no such nerves. She wrapped them both in a hug as the crowd clapped, and when Shino was released and stepped down, Sakuya’s eyes had begun to overflow. She turned to the crowd, smiling through the tears and her own sheepish attempts to hide her face.

“I… I don’t know what to say. I promise I’ll take care of this place. We’ll work hard to make sure this town thrives. I’ll work hard to make this inn successful and… I’ll work hard to make you happy, Pia.”

She might have intended to say more, but Pia’s next hug nearly toppled both of them off the table, and Shino’s quick reactions in saving them seemed reason enough to begin applauding. Micah joined in, the sound reverberating around the inn until he worried the rafters would tremble with it. He was engulfed in a crowd of people rushing forward, and he wondered if anyone would have any revelry left over for the actual ceremony.

Jostled around in a manner that he was sure would leave bruises the following morning, he was considering retreating outside to wait for the ceremony in the clear evening air, when he saw a flash of white and everything stopped.

There she was. Kuruna, her usual robes adorned with a pale and fluttering fabric that hung around her like mist, silver chains hanging from her horn and catching the light as she moved. Delicate gemstones hung from thin strips of lace, but nothing was more dazzling, more beautiful to him than seeing her smile, small and nervous but with a genuine warmth behind it. He knew then, if there had ever been any doubt, that everything was going to be alright.

He moved towards her as if the revellers were nothing but stalks of corn. The nearer he got, the more the crowd thinned out, Kuruna’s regal bearing like a barrier around her. People simply stood and watched as the Univir, the mermaid and the human girl talked quietly together.

“-will be perfect together, I am certain of it.” He caught Kuruna’s soft, even voice as he entered the circle.

“Of course we will!” Pia was still clinging to Sakuya, the pair of them blending into one white, feathery being.

“Pia, mother spent an hour getting my makeup right and it’s getting all over your sleeves,” Sakuya’s complaint was laced with resignation and not a small amount of fondness.

“It looks quite lovely,” Kuruna said, “everything does. I did not know there could be so much colour in one place.” Her voice lowered, her gaze turning inward. “To see it all... gives me hope.”

“And it’s all because we’re gonna be wives! So I’m gonna hug you like this every day, to make sure you don’t escape!”

“I’m not a fish on a line, Pia.”

“I don’t know, I think you’re quite the catch.” Micah saw his own wife jump a little at his voice. She turned towards him and he reached out a hand, which she took, her little smile falling back into place as she squeezed his fingers.

“See, Micah agrees!”

“You _eat_ fish, Pia.”

“Oh? Don’t you know?” The girl’s expression became serious. “When my people find a partner, we lay our eggs, and then the biggest one eats the other.”

“What? Eggs?” Sakuya’s eyes were wide.

“Uh-huh. How else am I gonna have the strength to guard our clutch?”

“I…”

“Pia is joking,” Kuruna shook her head, still smiling, “her people are not cannibalistic.”

“Aw,” Pia groaned, frowning, “c’mon Kuruna, don’t ruin it!”

“But… the eggs?” Sakuya was still staring into space, her face a little pale under the smeared paints. “How… how many?”

“Well-”

“You children these days, moving so fast!”

Marjorie entered the circle with considerably more elbowing and knocking of shins than Micah. She grinned up at them, her dark little eyes bright and warm.

“It’s far too early to be worrying about eggs! You need to settle in first, travel, spend time together. Worry about children when you’ve had time to grow into each other, there’s no rush! Now, for me, I waited quite a while before I had that little one.”

“Oh no!” Sakuya stammered. “No, there’s so much to do first, the inn, and, and-”

“We could put the eggs in the baths! I bet they’d come out really strong with the right ingredients!”

“Pia, we can’t broil them! And where would the customers go?”

Marjorie chuckled. “Marriage is such a delight, isn’t it? I wonder if I ought to have another go…” She looked up, thoughtful, then turned to Micah and Kuruna, giving the latter a pat on the arm. “And what about you, dear? When did you find out?”

“Find out what?” Micah asked. He turned to Kuruna and was stalled for a moment, watching some quiet and shadowy feeling flicker across her face.

“I… Oh, I must step out for a moment. The crowds…”

The witch looked between the two of them, then nodded slowly. “I see. Yes, take a moment, the two of you. The ceremony won’t begin for a little while. If it’s about to start without you, I’ll send Marian. She could use a bit of fresh air herself, I think.”

“Marjorie… thank you.” She bowed slightly, and then Micah was being removed from the circle, then the inn itself, waving at familiar faces as Kuruna half-dragged him out into the open air and kept going, leading him back through town.

“Is something the matter? I thought you were enjoying it.”

“No, I… We need to talk about this now. I can’t wait, I…” She turned to him as they walked under the trees. “I can’t keep hiding this from you. It’s,” she turned to him, her eyes almost amber in the glow of the fading sun, “it’s miserable to keep any part of myself from you.”

He looked at her, her face still as delicate and as firm as a jade statue, and nodded. He allowed himself to be led back to the Sharance tree, but she did not take them back to the house. Instead they entered the fields below, and stepped into the portal. The light of the magic flickered and swam around them, and then he tasted the air, dry and spiced and still warm, even at this hour, and they were there.

They stepped out of the portal, and she released his hand as they entered the settlement. The way the light and the breeze caught her ethereal robes made her look even more like some spirit, a ghost or an elemental wandering through the camp, her footsteps swallowed by the sand.

Micah watched her, entranced. Then there was a whooping and cawing, and from the shadows monsters emerged, dashing towards the pair of them, not with malice, but joy. He petted the furry and scaly heads of them as they swarmed him, laughing.

“I think they missed us.”

“Yes,” Kuruna was smiling too, her fingers brushing through feathers and stroking tails with infinite gentleness. “We are family to them, and they worry about us.”

He moved to her side, patting the carapace of a great beetle monster. “I wonder why they don’t come to the town with us?” Kuruna was silent, her gaze thoughtful. “I see some of them sniffing around sometimes, but they never go far in.”

“They have long memories, unlike humans.”

She turned to him and he put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close.

“Why did you ask me about Daria’s house?” He mumbled the question into her hair.

She sighed. “I was still young when it was built, but I remember. The town would not accept elves in their borders, they treated her family with suspicion.”

He frowned. “Why?”

She scoffed. “Who can say why humans mistrust what is not like them. Perhaps they thought they were spies.”

“Daria never mentioned this… she seems to be accepted by everyone.” He shook his head, a kernel of something angry taking root in him. “How could anyone hate her? She’s a kind, warm person. She would never do anything to hurt someone.”

“This was a long time ago, as I said. Perhaps all the humans who took issue with her family simply died, as they so quickly do. Perhaps they simply became better at pretending to tolerate her.”

“Kuruna… I’m sure the people of Sharance truly care about her, like they care about Raven, Pia, Ondorus, Zaid… and me and you.”

“For now. Not so long ago you and Raven had to live in secrecy, afraid of what they might do to you.”

He squeezed her tighter. “Kuruna-”

“I am going to have a child, Micah.”

He froze, his lips still parted around the words that had now completely fallen out of his mind. He stared into her eyes, the clear blue waters of them behind her glasses, deep and cool.

“You… really?”

“Yes.”

“I…” The energy that had been trapped in stasis suddenly bubbled out all at once and he grabbed her and almost crushed her against him, spinning her around and laughing over her protestations, the monsters barking and gamboling around them. “Kuruna, that’s amazing!”

“Micah!”

He put her down and she gave him an indignant huff, but when he kissed her he could feel that little smile on her lips. They stayed clinging to each other for quite a while, but Micah was sure he’d never be able to spend enough time like this, close enough to her that he could feel her every breath.

“I’m so glad that you’re happy,” she sighed into his collarbone before pulling back just far enough to be able to look him in the eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Kuruna, it’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard! Were you really worried that I’d be upset?”

She toyed with his collar. “No… no, I don’t think I really was. I was just…” For a few long seconds she looked up at him, a little line forming between her brows. “Micah I’m… I’m so afraid.”

“Afraid?” He pulled her closer. “Of what?”

“Micah, our child… they won’t be human. I’m not even sure what they will be, but I know they will be different, and everyone who sees us together will know it.” Her gaze was intense now, with the fire of her iron will behind it. “I want them to have a good life, Micah, I don’t want them to be in danger, or live in fear. I don’t want to watch them grow up, worrying about what could happen.”

He stared back at her. His first instinct was to dismiss it, to reassure her that nothing would happen, that their family would be safe and treated as fairly as any other in Sharance. Those words died on his tongue, though, he couldn’t betray her like that, shut down her concerns and brush them away like so much dust, simply because he did not like to think of them.

“If I thought it was dangerous here, ever, I would leave in a heartbeat. I would take you and our child away, I would do anything to protect you both. No matter what comes or where it comes from that will _never_ change.”

“I know, I know.” She sighed again, her eyes downcast. “I don’t doubt that. And I loathe thinking this way, looking at our neighbours and wondering which could turn on us, which would look away and do nothing, who can truly be trusted…”

He took her hands, inclining his head to the encampment. “You spent so long here, protecting your people, surviving. Of course those feelings are still there; they kept you safe. But you still gave the town a chance, and now we can build something on that chance, together. We can keep going, we can make a world where nobody has to hide.”

“Then will we be a circus instead of a threat? Crowds of people asking us to transform into monsters, or touch our horns?”

The bitterness in her voice surprised him into speechlessness.

“I couldn’t bear that. For them to cast us out for so long, and now to treat us as an attraction, to pet us and fawn over us.”

“It’s just because it’s something new and exciting. They don’t mean anything by it. The novelty will wear off eventually.”

“I don’t want to raise a novelty.” She looked at him, her gaze softening. “I’m sorry. I know that you care about these people. I do too, really, they are kind and… they are certainly interesting.” She smiled, fragile and thin.

He smiled back at her, brushing a hand through her hair. “You are going to make a great mother, Kuruna.”

She blinked at him, then chuckled softly. “Of course I will. I have plenty of experience, thanks to all of these.” She waved at the monsters around them, some curling up for the night, some nocturnal ones heading out to scavenge for food.

He laughed, releasing her, but taking her hand. “Then you see why I’m not worried, right? No matter what, our kid is gonna have the best protection, from us and the rest of our family, monsters and hornless. And if that ever changes,” he took her hand in both of his and looked at her, channelling as much trust and certainty as he could into his expression, “we’ll leave. We’ll come and live here. We can still visit the town and our friends if we want, but nobody will gawk at us all day. We’ll always be able to come home here, where nobody will treat us like enemies or curiosities.”

“Micah, I know you do not want to do that.”

“Why not?” He waved an arm over the settlement. “This is your home, so it’s my home too. Here or in the Sharance tree, it makes no difference. I’m used to living a split life. It’s not so bad to belong to two different worlds.”

She looked down at their interlocking hands. “I… I want you to be _happy,_ Micah. I don’t want to tear you away from your life.”

“ _You_ are my life. Both of you.” He kissed her forehead, her horn brushing his cheek. “I’d go anywhere for you and be happy.”

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and gripped him tightly. “Micah,” she hummed, “we… we should go back. We’ll miss Pia and Sakuya’s big day.”

He pulled away and smiled, fixing her glasses. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. They are our friends, and I am happy for them, and… without you, perhaps this day would never have come for them. You should see it.”

“Without _us,_ ” he said, his chest lighting up at the sight of her smile.

“Without us,” she answered, and led him back to the portal, glowing like a beacon in the oncoming dusk.


End file.
